Aiyana is sitting next to me on my right, her left hand on my knee. On the other side of the table Dee sits. I am ever presently aware of how uncomfortable I am. Everything about this situation sucks. The aroma of fresh coffee my only reprieve. I wonder if I’m the only one whose ass is starting to sweat. I sense Dee may feel edgy, Aiyana the one truly not in the know. At this point though, what is there really to know? There is a never ending quandary of speculation about my fucking feelings. All of which is driving me to the absolute brink of insanity. It’s not just the thoughts that fuck with me. I can feel a tingle and a burning start in my gut, lightening escapes my fingers every time I think of her. I tell her, I could lose her forever.

“So, at least it’s just a misdemeanor.” Dee speaks in a monotonous tone with a sort of labored laugh. When she does that I know she is uncomfortable.

“Yeah, thank god. Now I can run out and buy that gun I always wanted.” They both laugh at that one.

Good, tension feels like it’s starting to dissipate some. Maybe Dee and I can be, well, Dee and I. Aiyana, I sense not wanting to feel like a third wheel, speaks for the first time since we have sat down,”Where do you think you wanna do your community service?”

My answer is an irritated one. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.” I just want to talk about something else right now. The tension filled silence might just be fucking better.

They both sense my irritated tone and begin to speak at the same time. I chime in with one of my classic dork responses,”Jinx, ya owe me a soda.” Back in the day it used to be a beer.

Aiyana giggles softly. Dee knowing the dork inside of me let’s out an all knowing, there’s my dork sort of giggle with her own classic crooked smirk. Ok, were definitely back. I release a much needed sigh of relief.

“You alright?” Aiyana asks placing her hand on my arm. I hadn’t realized how noticeable the sigh was to anyone else.

Aiyana squeezes my arm gently,”Baby I’m working tonight.” I’ve just recently learned that Aiyana is an exotic dancer. I’m not even bothered by it. It kind of turns me on. “As a matter of fact I should probably get going. Takes a little while to get this looking pretty.”

She says that with a sexy gesture of her hand running along the length of her body. I’m not even sure what she means by it. Even when she’s not all “dolled up” she’s still gorgeous, and fuck, knowing what’s underneath. Aiyana leans over and places a tasty kiss on me with just a hint of tongue. Soft and warm.

“Oookaay.” There is an obvious sarcastic rhythm to Dees attempt of a humorous but annoying ok.

“So Dee, you just wanna come over to moms? She should be out tonight probably having a sleep over with whoever the fuck.”

Dee decides to pick the movie,”Better Than Chocolate” to watch tonight. When she mentions her interest in watching the damn movie for like the millionth time I try to sway her decision to something more barbaric like “300.” Yep, every single one of my efforts failed. Women and their romance stuff. Well, I think I’ll fake having to use the bathroom during the sex scenes. The movie starts and maybe in my state of anxiety, the next question just falls out before I even realize what I have said.

“What’s going on with Ginger?” The look on Dees face, yeah dumbass, you probably just should have stewed in your own tension and kept your fucking mouth shut. My mind screams this revelation. Now I’ll sit in my pot of guilt. I can see her eyes begin to tear up.

“I’m actually really grateful it’s over for good now. As scary as it was cause the abuse had become so normalized, it was my life. Adjusting to another way right now is still a real fear for me.”

I honestly was not expecting the response she gave. Not that I thought she would want to be back with her but, but I’m not really sure what I expected her to say. As she wipes away her tears, her voice shakes, “I’m scared.” I instinctively grab her hand.

At this moment our eyes dance to the slow song inside each one of us. This time were both sober. This time it isn’t funny. As a tear falls she leans into me and kisses my lips gently. I can taste her tears and it only draws me closer. Our kiss is more intimate than I have felt from anyone. Not deep physically, but emotionally. The lightening in me builds, I’m fearful of it’s release. Her lips part mine and she breaths into me.

“No.” I move away from her. “We can’t do this. You’re vulnerable right now and I will never, would never take advantage of that.”

I feel my own tears drop. I can taste her, I can taste myself. As she wipes the tears from my lips she looks into the depths of me I’ve never left open to anyone.

I just don’t want her physically, I want all of her. I want to know how she shakes inside when she loves or fears the unknown. I want to know what she’s thinking as her eyes spark when she calls me a punk. I want to know when her soul shines and when it breaks. I want to touch her with not just the tips of my fingers but with the edges of every part of my soul that has feared, been broken yet mourns no further.

About PJ Secluded

Introspective writer working on first manuscript. Writer of original series, poems, musings of sorts and the occasional manic prose.
My main blog is an original series seen through the eyes of the lesbian protagonist Burgess. With her brood of studs, they conquer fear and tragedy, embracing love and the experiences between close friends.
I have been writing for just a little while now and found a true passion for it. I want to help others through my writing discussing sensitive issues that affect the LGBTQ community in a unique fashion